


Wasn't Expecting That

by lovelarry10



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional, Happy Ending, Harry Has Cancer, Hurt/Comfort, I cried., M/M, Married Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Mentions of Cancer, One Shot, Pain, Sick Character, Sick Harry, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21852718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelarry10/pseuds/lovelarry10
Summary: It's three days before Christmas, and Harry's nervously waiting for news. Surely it can't be bad, not again.As always, Louis' right by his side.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 39
Kudos: 242





	Wasn't Expecting That

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know why I did this. Please read the tags, and be aware of any triggers.
> 
> Inspired by 'Wasn't Expecting That' by Jamie Lawson.
> 
> Any inaccuracies are my own. This is just fiction and something I had to get out of my system. 
> 
> xx
> 
> DISCLAIMER:  
> This is a work of fiction. All characters are of my own creation and in no way reflect the beliefs and actions of those in real life. Any sexual content is consensual and legal per the consent guidelines in the United Kingdom. Please ensure you read the tags before proceeding with this story - they are there to protect you and me. If you believe anything is in any way triggering for you, please do not continue reading. 
> 
> Reposting of this work is a violation of copyright and will be reported. I also do not permit any translations of my work.  
> Manip in the board by the incredibly talented Clara.

“We shouldn’t have to be doing this three days before Christmas, Lou,” Harry muttered softly, wincing at the ache in his bones as he settled back against the passenger seat of the car. It felt like it was taking all of his strength to just pull the seat belt across his body, but as usual, Louis was completely aware of his every thought and feeling, taking the buckle from Harry as soon as he could. “Thank you, love.”

“Anything for you, darling,” Louis replied equally as gently, clicking into place. “All set?”

Harry just shrugged. He wanted to answer that no, he wasn’t ready. Not at all. But he couldn’t. Today was so important, and as much as he wanted to remain positive, it was difficult. Too many times he’d got his hopes up only to have them dashed at the last moment, and he wasn’t sure he could go through that again. 

“Come on, Haz. I know you don’t want to feel good about this, but I do, I really do. You’ve been better lately, so much better.”

“I know,” Harry muttered, knowing Louis was right. But hope was still a very dangerous thing, especially right now, so close to Christmas. It was the season of goodwill and perpetual hope, but that didn’t mean it applied to everything. Sometimes, there had to be bad news, no matter how much of a good person you were. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m scared to think it might be okay now, you know?”

He turned to see Louis nodding, his lips pressed firmly together as he guided the car out onto the main road, in the direction of the place that had become their second home as of late. He reached for Louis’ hand and held it on top of Louis’ thigh as they drove in silence. The windscreen wipers were pushing the spots of rain out of the way as they sat in the busy traffic, people heading all over to grab last minute Christmas presents, or to go and visit their loved ones. Harry and Louis were saving that for later. They couldn’t face anyone today, not before they knew.

It seemed like just minutes later they were pulling into the car park, driving up and down the lanes slowly to see if there was a free space. As usual, it was busy, and it was Harry who spotted a couple heading for their car, hand in hand. He wound his window down and got their attention, ignoring the pitying gaze he got as he called over to them.

“Excuse me, are you leaving?”

“Yes, we are. We’re the Mondeo just over there.” 

They pointed and Louis craned to spot it, nodding when he did so. He pulled over, indicating to tell the traffic behind him that he was parking, and Harry pulled the window back up, shivering in the December chill. It was unusually cold day, and Harry wasn’t sure whether that was a good omen or not. He sat back as Louis thanked the driver of the other car, expertly reverse parking into the free space.

“Wait here, I’ll just pop and get a ticket,” he instructed, and Harry just nodded. As he sat there waiting for Louis to return, Harry pulled his phone from his pocket, sighing when he saw a stream of notifications on his homescreen. He scrolled through them, unable to look at them just yet. They’d be messages filled with hope and positivity, and as grateful as he was for their friends and family being so supportive, he knew it would push him over the edge.

“Here we go,” Louis called as he opened the door, making Harry jump. “Sorry, babe. You ready to go in? I know we’re early, but you never know, Doctor Matheson might see us early if he’s ahead of schedule.”

“Like that’s ever happened,” Harry murmured, feeling self conscious as he stepped out of the car. The wind caught under the edge of his headscarf and his shaking fingers hurried to pull it down before he could expose any more of his head. The only person he felt comfortable seeing him without his scarf was Louis, and even that had taken weeks of courage to reach a point of exposing himself in that way.

“Let me,” Louis said softly, coming to pull it down just above where Harry’s eyebrows used to be, smoothing it over the crown of his head before he kissed Harry’s forehead. “There. Beautiful.”

Harry scoffed quietly, but it didn’t escape Louis’ attention judging by the little furrow that appeared between his eyebrows, and the lines on his forehead as he frowned.

“I’m not sure how many times you need me to tell you you’re beautiful before you actually believe me,” Louis said, quietly enough that only Harry could hear. He locked the car and slipped his keys into his pocket, taking Harry’s hand in his own. 

“Hardly how I used to be, am I?” Harry shrugged as they headed down the familiar pathway towards the main hospital building. “I used to be so different.”

“Do you think I care if you’ve got any hair or not? I love _you_ , Harry. You. Not your hair, or your body, or whatever else. Just you.”

Harry stayed quiet after year, letting Louis’ words sink in. The route to the department was too commonplace for them now, and neither man had to think as they navigated the clinical smelling corridors, standing aside as medical staff ran past, in a hurry. Harry swallowed down the lump in his throat, trying not to think about what they might find when they reached their destination.

As always, Louis took charge once they arrived, but Harry stood at his side as they waited for a receptionist to come and see them. Harry let his eyes drift around, taking in the sight of the other patients waiting. This was the part he hated. This was where he actually felt like he was sick, that there was no denying what was wrong with him, not here.

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Harry Tomlinson to see Doctor Matheson?” Louis stated, and just a few seconds later, the woman nodded and directed them over to a bank of chairs against the wall, telling Louis that the clinic was running on time. “Thank you so much.”

Louis guided Harry over to the chairs, and fixed his scarf once more as they sat down, unbuttoning his own jacket. Harry was feeling the cold as usual so left his zipped up, tapping his foot nervously on the floor. He hated being here. To him, this was the worst place in the world, and the day he would find out he would never have to come back would be the best day of his life, he knew that much. All it brought back was bad memories.

He shut his eyes and rested his head on Louis’ shoulder as images flashed through his mind, of two, three years ago when they got the news that had ripped the very foundations out from under their feet. Harry had been unwell for a while, just a few small things, but one after the other to the point where he struggled to get out of bed, had no appetite, and was losing weight at an alarming rate. Louis had been scared enough to bundle Harry into the car and they’d been sent for test after test.

Hearing the words “you’ve got testicular cancer” had broken Harry, and then Louis when the news had sunk in. He’d assumed that he was going to die, that this was it. The doctors had assured him that he was young and strong enough to beat it, but still, it was going to be a rough road ahead. Months of chemotherapy had followed, making Harry so sick that he was sure this was what was going to kill him, but Louis had been his rock. He’d been the one holding his hair back when he’d cried into the toilet bowl, retching, nothing left to give.

Louis was the one who had shaved his head in front of the mirror in the bathroom when Harry had awoken to hair falling out on his pillow, devastating him. They’d both sobbed as Louis had pulled the clippers over Harry’s scalp again and again, his curls falling to the floor until there were none left. Louis had held him until the tears had stopped, not because Harry wasn’t crying, but because he had nothing left to give.

Louis was the one who took charge of all of Harry’s appointments, seeing dieticians to work out which foods Harry could eat to build his strength up, a personal trainer to learn some exercises that would ease Harry’s sore muscles, and made sure that once a month, he took Harry to the spa for a pamper treatment, sitting there with his ankles crossed while Harry had his nails done, trying to forget for just half an hour the reality of life.

That was three years ago now, and Harry was growing weary. Cycles of chemotherapy, endless steroids, and a particularly nasty round of radiotherapy had left him tired, deep down in his bones which was why he was struggling to feel hopeful today. He’d gone for his latest scans just two days ago, and they’d got a call from the Oncology team asking them to come in. Harry had cried on the phone to Louis, who’d dashed home from work to find Harry on the floor in the hallway, broken again.

It felt cruel, for this to happen before Christmas, but in a way, Harry wanted it out of the way. If it was more bad news, he could deal with it and try to enjoy Christmas with his family. At that thought, Harry’s bottom lip wobbled slightly, silently praying it wouldn’t be the last Christmas he’d be spending with his loved ones.

“Hey. Don’t do that. Don’t think about whatever it is you’re thinking about. Please.” 

Louis’ voice was rough now, like he was struggling himself and Harry just nodded, his eyes dipping back to his lap. After a few minutes, though, he couldn’t resist looking around at the other patients. There was an elderly couple sat there, gnarled hands clasped, and although Harry couldn’t tell which of them was sick, there was a haunted look in their eyes he recognised all too well. There was a young woman around his age, not hiding her bald head like Harry did, curled up against a woman Harry assumed to be her mother. She looked worse than he did, gaunt and skeletal, and his heart broke. He hoped he didn’t look quite that sick just yet.

His eyes fell onto a little boy then, a strange pallid grey tinge to his skin that looked unnatural somehow. His face was covered in a rash, one Harry recognised himself from a particularly awful dose of steroids around a year ago that left him housebound, unable to face going out and having people stare at him. He smiled gently as the boy looked up at him, waggling his fingers and returning the boys cheerful wave.

“Harry Tomlinson?”

Harry held his breath as Louis stood first, tucking his jacket over the crook of his arm before he held out a hand to Harry, practically pulling him to his feet as the nurse turned and walked away, knowing both men knew where they were going.

“Remember…” Louis began, as he always did before they headed in for an appointment. “I’m here. You’re here. Whatever they tell us in there, we’ll face together. You and me, like we do everything. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Harold.”

“Love you too,” Harry whispered, accepting a brief kiss from Louis before they headed off, passing a few doors before they came to a stop outside one covered in stickers. They’d asked about it once, and Doctor Matheson had explained a young patient of his had received the all clear, and in her joy, had dotted her stickers all around to make other people smile. The story had driven Harry to tears. That had been a difficult day.

Louis rapped his knuckles on the door, waiting until they heard a familiar gruff voice beckoning them inside before they wandered in. All the usual things were there, but this time, a small Christmas tree sat in the corner of the room, covered in coloured fairy lights, adding a bit of festivity to the room. Harry wondered if the doctor turned the lights off when he had to deliver bad news.

“Louis, Harry, lovely to see you,” he said, standing and shaking both men’s hands. “Do sit down. I’ve got a student doctor in with me today, is that alright with you?”

“Yeah, course,” Harry said, taking a seat, smiling as Louis dragged his a little closer. “We all need to learn.”

“Exactly. That’s great, Harry, thank you. This is Amber Harrison, she’s a third year looking to specialise in Oncology so has been shadowing me for a few weeks. Do you mind if I get her up to speed with your case?”

Harry shook his head, and sat back, chewing on his lower lip as he ignored the horrible words he didn’t want to hear in association with himself; ‘cancer’, ‘grade two’, ‘chemotherapy hadn’t worked as we hoped’. The look of pity the young female doctor flashed him didn’t help much, either.

“Okay, so before I start, how have you been, Harry?”

“Alright,” Harry shrugged again, turning into a bit of a sulky teenager in this room for some unfathomable reason. “A bit tired and stuff, but no worse than usual.”

“Would you agree, Louis?” Doctor Matheson asked, always seeking out Louis’ opinion as if he didn’t trust Harry to be entirely honest, or to embellish the truth a little bit.

“I mean… yes and no,” Louis replied, squeezing the hand inside his own for a moment. “He was a bit sick the other day. Harry woke up nauseous, and he couldn’t eat. And his energy levels have dipped again, but that’s pretty common after a cycle of chemo.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Doctor Matheson said, turning back to his computer screen for a moment. “So, I understand you had your tests a few days ago, Harry?”

“I did, the usual,” he replied, not sure why the doctor bothered asking things like this when he knew exactly what had been going on. “Then you called, and here we are.”

Doctor Matheson just nodded, pushing back from the screen. Harry swallowed, sure he didn’t like that particular move. He fiddled with the edge of his head scarf, fingers brushing past the spare few hairs that still survived on his head. He hated the baby soft wispy hairs, but there was something comforting about the way Louis ran his fingers through them when they watched TV, or just laid in bed together. He knew Louis loved him anyway.

“I’ve got the results, Harry. You had your blood work done, and a scan, all of which are back now.”

“Right,” Harry said, leaning forward slightly. He felt sick now, and his hands were trembling. He could see Louis out of the corner of his eye sit up straighter, as if that was going to help prepare him for what they were about to hear. He pulled his hand out of Louis’ and instead threaded their fingers together, gripping him tightly.

“Harry…”

Harry’s whole body was trembling now, trying to get a read on what the doctor was going to tell him from his body language. The doctor was too versed in this, though, and gave nothing away. He was leant forward, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. His dark brown eyes were kind as they met Harry’s, and he wondered what the doctor thought as he looked at him.

“I’ve got some news for you, Harry.”

The air in the room just felt thick as Harry nodded to that, not even sure why because he had no idea whether it was something good or bad just yet. Louis’ thumb was stroking frantically against the back of his hand, and Harry resisted the urge to run away, to pretend this wasn’t happening, that the clock had gone back three years.

“Your scan showed that they weren’t able to see any signs of your cancer anymore, Harry. There were no markers in your blood, and it was clear.

“I just- what?”

Harry’s voice shook as he tried to speak, unable to believe this was happening. It felt like he was in some sort of parallel universe, watching this happen to someone else. 

“You don’t need any further treatment, Harry. This isn’t an all-clear, not yet, but this is exactly where we wanted you to be. Currently, there aren’t any cancerous cells in your body. As of this moment, you are cancer free.”

A sob burst into the silence of the room as the doctor finished speaking, and Harry startled when he realised it wasn’t coming from him, but from his husband. Louis snatched his hand away, covering his eyes as his body shook with his sobs, and the doctors had the courtesy to turn away, giving Harry and Louis a private moment.

“Did you hear him, Lou? I’m gonna be okay. I beat it, just like you said I would.”

Harry scooped Louis into his arms, ignoring the shock of pain in his shoulder as Louis rested his head there more heavily than he usually would have done, clutching Harry’s shirt like a lifeline. They sat there for an indeterminable amount of time, until eventually Louis sat up, wiping his eyes, shaking his head.

“Please tell me this isn’t a cruel joke. Please tell me he’s going to be okay, that you’re not lying to me.”

“I assure you, Louis, I would never do that. Harry has, at this time, beaten the cancer. I understand this is a lot for you to take in, after so long fighting this, but I promise this is hopeful, that this is exactly where we wanted him to be.”

Louis’ chin wobbled again as he looked at Harry, a smile finally creeping onto his lips, like he was letting himself finally believe the words he was hearing.

“You hear that?”

“I did.”

Louis’ hand came up and cupped Harry’s cheek, staring into his eyes, the world stilling around them, the two men ignoring everyone except each other.

“You did it, my brave, clever man. I told you you were strong enough to do this, to beat it. Now you’re going to be stuck with me until we’re wrinkly and old.”

Harry laughed at that, a few tears falling unapologetically down his cheeks.

“It’s all I ever wanted. We’ve got a future now, Lou.”

“We always had a future, Haz. It was always you and me.”

“But it wasn’t a certainty,” Harry whispered, feeling emotional again. “Now… maybe it is.”

“No maybe’s here, not now. This is all we’ve waited to hear. We can have Christmas and know that you beat it, that the cancer’s gone, and you’re perfect, and strong. Fuck, I love you so much-”

Louis cut himself off as he crashed his lips against Harry’s, not caring they were kissing in front of the doctors. Harry was fairly certain they’d probably seen it all before, but he was a little stunned to see the other doctor dabbing under her eyes with a tissue as they pulled away, holding hands again as they readied themselves to listen to the doctor’s next words.

“Sorry, I just-” she began, flapping her hand in front of her face again. “I’ve… I’ve only been in the room for bad news. This was… it was a lot. I’m so happy for you. Congratulations.”

“Thank you so much,” Harry replied, giving her a shy smile across the room. “I just… I wasn’t expecting that. You know?”

“I do,” the doctor nodded, smiling at the pair of them. “This is the best part of my job, though. Telling a patient that they’ve beaten cancer.”

Harry just smiled and shook his head, still struggling to believe those words applied to him, after all these years of struggle and pain, thinking the worst, hoping he was going to make it to the next Christmas, the next birthday, every day he survived a triumph.

“So… what’s next, Doctor?”

****

Half an hour later, the pair were walking down the corridor with their shoulders pushed back and heads held high, still buzzing from the news. Harry’s further chemotherapy appointments had been cancelled, and another round of blood work and scans had been booked for a few months time but at the moment… it was all over. He was now a cancer survivor. All he needed was to stay that way, go into remission, and live a long and happy life with his husband by his side.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really am. I didn’t think it was going to be good news.”

“I know you didn’t,” Louis chuckled, shaking his head as he held the door open for a young family, nodding as they thanked him. “I had a little feeling, though. Couldn’t be anything but good at Christmas, could it?”

“I guess not,” Harry said, coming to a stop in the middle of the double doors leading out of the building and into the car park.

“Haz? Come on, we need to go home.”

Harry just stayed where he was, squinting as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, bathing the world in light and hope. He grinned to himself, closing his eyes and letting the sun warm his face for a moment. 

“What are you doing?”

“Hold on,” Harry asked, and Louis stopped where he was, tilting his head as he watched Harry, waiting for whatever was to come next. What he did, though, surprised even Harry himself.

He reached up and grabbed the front of his head scarf before he let out a quick breath, pulling it entirely off his head. The cold wind made him feel chilly, but somehow, he felt free. His baldness was something to wear with pride. Everything he’d gone through had led to this moment. He got to tell people he’d beaten cancer, that he was strong, and that he was a survivor.

“I’m ready now,” he said, nodding decisively at Louis, who was tearing up again. “Let’s go home.”

“So proud of you,” Louis mumbled, pressing another kiss to Harry’s lips as he took his headscarf, tucking it into the pocket of his coat, out of sight, out of mind. “You’re fucking gorgeous, babe.”

“I know,” Harry shrugged with a loud laugh as he started heading for the car, a skip in his step he hadn’t had in too long. “Take me home, Lou.”


End file.
